


No Loose Ends

by made_of_lions_and_wolves333



Series: Quarantine Entertainment (Random Fandoms) [9]
Category: Errementari: The Blacksmith and the Devil (2018)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/made_of_lions_and_wolves333/pseuds/made_of_lions_and_wolves333
Summary: Usue and Benito grow closer years later; and Sartael returns to tie up loose ends.
Series: Quarantine Entertainment (Random Fandoms) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725514
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	No Loose Ends

Sarteal vanishes into the trees, just like that. 

  
It’s strange to Usue, realizing that she grew very fond of the creature in such a short time. It couldn’t be helped. He left a mark on her life, and she prefers to think he was her friend by the end, rather than just another ghost to haunt her nightmares.

  
But he took the opportunity to meet her mother and get answers about her fate with him. Sarteal had real knowledge of the netherworld that not even the head priest knew.

  
Perhaps, she should be thankful that she was merely _alive_ , if nothing else. Still, she’s always had an enquiring nature and a habit of pushing the limits. Blanca jokes that Usue tends to break at _least_ one rule before the sun would go down each day.

* * *

The fields still laid bare, not yet ripe, but thankfully the soil and flower buds are soaking up the sunlight. 

  
Benito walks past with his rakes and cart one row over, with a small crossbow slung over his shoulder.

  
It was not much, but Usue’s glad for his quick change of heart and how he stands guard, watching out for her if need be. Even though Usue can usually hold her own in the face of danger, his parents insist on it, and Benito obeys willingly.

He walks her home every night to make sure she’s not stolen away or hurt by the other children. He holds her hand when a bird suddenly takes flight and the sound makes her jump. She offers him a small smile.

Despite his initial boyish nagging, Usue does start to hear a certain tenderness coating his words.

* * *

  
When Benito’s nineteen, she’s sixteen. He’s quite well-read and handsome for a son of a simple lodger. She is taller herself finally, growing lithe on her feet, and less rounded with baby fat. 

Her hair is still a mess of dark waves and the burn scars on her face remain somewhat noticeable, but Benito hardly seems to care about that anymore.

Though, as seasons pass, Usue’s mind is still loud and bustling with memories of the past. She is generally curious for more, deep down. She longs for a touch of magic and adventure.

There are days when she feels like she is splitting in two. There’s the her on the surface, who grew to love Benito’s family and feels safer with Blanca now, too… and then, there’s that secret part of her who always wonders what would have happened… if she _hadn’t_ been so lucky? If it had ended differently?

* * *

It is high noon. They end up rolling around in the long grass under the summer heat, kissing. 

Benito is nervous, and unsure how far they should take this. He’s breathing hard and fast against her skin and his hands grab fistfuls of her skirt. He is so noble and honest, and equally new at this, but she’s there to reassure him, guiding his hands, telling him it’s alright. 

She lets his fingers slide up her thigh and learn how to please her until she is gasping his name and she feels her release.

* * *

  
Usue is just finishing up her chores for the night, locking up the last few sheep, then gathering water from the private well behind the church. She nearly misses the shadow lurking behind her. There is a familiar hiss and what sounds like a long tail whipping against the stone. 

She reels around again and instantly finds a thin, rugged stranger glaring back at her. “Well, well,” he says. 

Normally Usue would consider shouting or hurling a rock at such an eerie peeper, but, she catches the sudden flash of color in his eyes — a bright yellow, like melting gold and burning embers — and instantly she understands, this is no ordinary mortal man.

Hope and dread and excitement all twist in her gut at once. He leaps towards her on impact, reinspecting her up close, sniffing in her scent. “So it is you, girl.”

“… What brings you back, Sartael?” 

He smirks, and shrugs. “Damn French monks chased me back across the borders.”

“Is that all?”

“Aye. And I thought I would see if my warnings upheld in this town since I left. No loose ends and such.”

  
  
When she wakes, she’s still on the cold floor of the blacksmith’s forge. She never made it back to her own bed after spending the entire night reconnecting with Sartael, and ultimately convincing him that _this_ would be the best place to keep out of sight and out of trouble, all irony aside.

* * *

Usue revisits the forge whenever she can. She always wonders if her demon will still be there or not once she arrives. Half the time she expects him to run off again. 

She will bring him bread, cheese, or wine sometimes, even if he keeps insisting he doesn’t need it. That shit is only for mortals. “Demons require _other_ substance to survive, mind you.” 

But she will sit there with him anyway and just eat or drink by herself. Some days, when she calls him to come out, he appears as that thin man with dark hair and dark eyes. Other days, he’ll just be his true self, showing his horns and red leathery hide. 

Winter sets in. Usue enjoys listening to Sartael’s stories and tales of bold warrior kings who came before her time. She’ll let him play his wooden pipe he recently carved by hand, using the pine from the old tattered window frame.

Eventually she’ll let herself touch him more often, just to remind herself that he is there and he is _real_ , and what she went through really happened. That she’s not completely mad yet. 

Tonight, she laughs with flushed cheeks and strong wine humming through her body. She leans in and grants his current human-form a goodnight kiss on the forehead, then on the mouth. She is merely testing it out. Just seeing how it would feel.

And after a considerable pause between them, he surges forward and presses her back up to the wall, feeding off her lust and want and defiance. 

  
Granted, in the morning, she notes that it was not her wisest idea to date. 

* * *

  
Benito is more suspicious these days, about her mysteriously disappearing for hours at a time. He is in no place to ridicule the saint who was thrown out of Hell itself. He’s just worried for her health is all. He knows she has experienced worst things than he ever had… although, how can he help her cope if she won’t be truthful or open with him now?

  
Usue sighs in understanding, but, she says there’s nothing else. She is fine. He is not bothering her. 

He doesn’t believe her this time. 

It’s just, days like this simply remind her that they tend to see the world a bit differently. Very seldom do they argue at this age, yet, tonight is not a good one. 

Her anger leads her away from the town, back through the woods and back up to the forge, with tears stinging her eyes the whole way there. 

  
She slams the main doors behind her and does not wish to tell Sartael what happened earlier. Sartael does not seem to care to ask her straightaway either. 

She starts to undress and freely falls with him into the hay below, his weight sure and solid between her knees. In the midst of their lovemaking, she can feel him shifting and his tail coil around her leg. And she gently curls her hands along his horns as he moves inside of her, raw and rough and eager. 

  
Usue thinks it makes more sense now. This demon went against protocol and even his own nature to save her soul, literally. He granted her the title of a saint himself, just to protect her from further scrutiny while living with those other humans. She reasons the least she can do is show him a bit of gratitude. _No loose ends_. She’ll repay him now with what she can offer — a bit of human love and appreciation. 

She will get this out of her system.

* * *

  
Two moons later, Benito proposes for her hand in marriage. Usue is finally satisfied and whole in light enough to say _yes_ now that Sartael is indeed gone.

She is happy to move on. She’ll be happy. She will.

* * *

“Don’t fret. I did not come back here to torment you for marrying the lad,” the demon states in greeting. “You still want to know what happened to your mother, don’t you?”

“You found her? How?”

“Does it matter?”

She presses her lips together tightly in thought; and with one last glance over her shoulder, she carefully follows him down the long winding path, wandering deeper into the trees to talk privately. “Tell me what you’ve found.”

“She’s kept in the First Circle.”

Usue still listens, and is actually grateful to learn that this top layer of Hell is not truly part of Hell _officially_ , despite what humans might think otherwise. It’s more like, the great Between. It’s not a paradise exactly, but it’s not raging with fiery storms either. It’s always quiet and strangely calm there, nothing more than mist and leaves. It’s guarded by one chosen demon and one chosen angel. Any souls put there are an exception; they’re able to undergo a retrial when they’re ready for one. They could, _can_ , still redeem themselves and enter Heaven if their trial is successful. 

“I believe you,” Usue decides, voice cracking with tears of relief.

“Really?” Sartael tips his head at her, like an inquisitive cat. “No further questions?”

“No. I know you would not lie to me about this. And, now… I think, I can sleep a bit easier at night. Because I finally have my answer.”

He tenderly traces a dark claw down her scarred cheek in response. She doesn’t even flinch. She’s unafraid. “Do not take this knowledge for granted,” he adds. “And covet your life.” Then, he swiftly changes into a dusty bearded drifter, ready to brace the open road once again. 

  
She smiles at him when he turns away and waves. She knows this is their final farewell. It must be. They have no more loose ends today. She will never, ever see him again after this night.

* * *

Dawn finally breaks over the bell tower. Usue, now twenty-four, exhales, relaxed and content.

She soon rolls over to find her sweet Benito stirring from sleep as well. He grins against the pillow, eyes soft and cracked open. “Fair morning, wife.”

She kindly combs her fingers through his dark thick tresses, sure to covet even this very moment. “Hello, husband.”


End file.
